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by TracingPatterns



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:43:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3278903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TracingPatterns/pseuds/TracingPatterns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Chelsea-Manchester City game on January 31st 2015. Inspired by <a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/B8s--NBIQAA10PF.jpg">this</a> and <a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/B8tK8VFCEAApXie.jpg">this</a>.</p>
<p>I wasn't supposed to write this but then photos happened and then this happened and I don't even know. For A. For always, always, always being the best person in the world <3</p>
<p>I don't own these people, I make no money, I mean no harm. Unbetad.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [abbichicken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbichicken/gifts).



It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was the wrong players at the end of his passes, the wrong pace of the game, the wrong noise from the crowd and most of all it was the wrong shade of blue.

When the final whistle blew he felt exhausted despite not having played even close to most of the game. Even though he should still be full of energy he felt all of it drain from him the same second that the final whistle went off.

He stumbled; one step, two steps, three…and then John was there. As always. John was always right fucking there.

Strong arms around his body, keeping him up despite the unnatural tiredness that swept through his entire body.

”It’s okay.”

It’s John’s private voice. The one he usually saves for when it’s just the two of them. The one no-one else ever gets to hear.

No-one hears it this time either. 

Despite all of the noise around them, all that matters in this second is John. It’s John’s arms around him, his body flush against Frank’s, his breath against Frank’s ear and a quick squeeze which is hard but not hard enough for anyone else to see.

”I didn’t want this.”

John chuckles, a breathless noise, a quick squeeze.

”I know, Frankie. I know.”

”It wasn’t supposed to-”

John interrupts. Voice low but firm.

”I know. They know.”

Frank exhales, nods.

”Let’s go home.”

John smiles, one eyebrow raised.

”Home?”

Frank nods, fingers curling against John’s shirt.

”Home.”


End file.
